First Date
by Miss Starfire
Summary: Oliver finally takes the plunge and asks Felicity out on a date, and from all the things that he thought could have gone wrong in his first attempt at a real, meaningful date, the one thing that actually occurred was the one situation he had not wanted for her to endure. SPOILERS FOR SEASON 3.


**A/N:** This plot bunny is the love child of all the Season 3 Arrow spoilers provided at SDCC 2014 and a post by _charmingwords23_ on Tumblr (follow me there; link to my blog on my profile page here on FFNET). You can thank the Olicity muse for this, too, as it is in overdrive thanks to all these spoilers. Oh! Also please thank _dearyunaxx_ from Tumblr for the edit (image) I borrowed from her (more inspiration). Follow their blogs!

So, if you don't want to be spoiled for Season 3, wait until AFTER the end of the first episode in October to read this one-shot.

**Summary:** Oliver finally takes the plunge and asks Felicity out on a date, and from all the things that he thought could have gone wrong in his first attempt at a real, meaningful date, the one thing that actually occurred was the one situation he had not wanted for her to endure. SPOILERS FOR SEASON 3.

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**First Date**

He had seen her in many outfits throughout the years of knowing her; from work-appropriate clothing to action-ready attire and formal wear, but none of those times compared to what she had worn tonight for their first date – the first, he had hoped, of many more to come. Her pale red dress and her bright red lips were enchanting to him, but he would have preferred the crimson color to have remained only where it had been meant to be.

He clutched the edge of the metallic table once more as his eyes stared at the dried, red liquid marring her beautiful face. The care with which she had arranged her hair, chosen her accessories and had enhanced her already flawless features had been for naught. All the preparation she had undergone for their outing had been ruined in two seconds, and all his hope of coming clean with her and telling her the truth about how he actually felt about her had been shattered along with the debris left behind by the bomb.

The bomb. Someone had planted a bomb in the restaurant they had been in, and they had almost not made it out alive to tell the horrible tale. Their bodies were still covered in soot and he was certain that the heatwave had burned their skin. They would have weeks of recovery time ahead of them, not to mention an even longer time finding out if the surprise attack had been meant for them, but all Oliver could think about at the moment was the guilt that was eating him inside – the deranged state of Felicity Smoak lying before him on a cold, metal table.

The Foundry was empty save for him and Felicity, and in the quietness of what still was the base of operations for his vigilante alter ego he thought long and hard about what to do next. He was no stranger to danger and for all practical purposes he did not fear death, but when Felicity was involved in a brush with either one of these situations, all bets were off. He could deal with a broken leg or a bruised rib, but for the life of him he could not live with a split hair on her head caused by him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to his unconscious friend, partner and _love_. "I'm so sorry, Felicity."

He clenched his eyes shut again and he fell to his knees as if the weight of world was upon him. He had days ago sent Diggle home and away from their nightlife in the hopes that the man focused on his pregnant ex-wife and their future child, but it was in this very moment that he realized how much he needed him around. He knew it was selfish of him to want Diggle present to help him cope with an injured Felicity, but it had also been selfish of him to think he could have everything he truly wanted – to believe he could finally have a relationship with the one person he truly cared about.

"Felicity," Oliver began and raised his head to stare at her still form. If it had not been for the slow rising of her chest, he would have thought her dead. She was so still, so pale, that had his hand just now not checked her pulse on her neck once again as he had done too many times already since they escaped the ruins of the eatery, he would have surely broken down thinking she was no longer alive.

"Can you…" he swallowed the lump in his throat. "Can you hear me?"

The only response he received was of the humming of the equipment Felicity had set up for him. The Foundry was what it was today thanks to her. He was who he was today thanks to her, and he could not imagine spending the rest of his life without her. He was not sure why he was having these morbid thoughts about her, but the more he tried pushing them away, the more his mind replayed how he had thrown his body on top of hers to keep her from further damage amidst the chaos that was now the Italian restaurant to which he had taken her.

He could still hear her voice calling his name, he could still feel her hands reaching out to him and he could still see the fear in her eyes. Even when everything around them had been confusion, smoke and pandemonium, she had tried to help _him_. Even knowing that he had endured worse in the past, she had tried to protect _him_ from whatever was happening by getting in the middle of the incoming fragments and flares and had been struck straight in the face. Diggle had warned him of this, of bringing Felicity into the dangers of vigilantism, but he had not listened. He had assured John she would be fine – he had been certain they could protect her.

He had lied to himself and to Diggle; just as he had lied to her, months ago.

_"I love you. Do you understand?"_

No, she did not understand. She did not understand because he had misled her. He had made her believe that he had only said those words to save Laurel, to save the city; to stop Slade. But he had meant them. He had truly meant them. More than he had ever meant them before in his entire life.

"This is not how I wanted this night to end," he told her and then held her hand in his. "I wanted to tell you the truth. I wanted to tell you that I lied to you before. I don't want to lie to you again."

He briefly pressed her hand to his forehead, then to his lips and he then stood up again. He ran the back of his free hand over his moist eyes and then took a deep breath. He stared at her up and down, noting every single injury on her battered body, and while the back of his mind was already categorizing every wound and was already planning the steps he would take to patch her up, his heart and his soul became enthralled in the mission of opening up to her, even in her out cold state.

"I do love you, Felicity," he said in a shaky voice that could only be the result of sadness, excitement, nervousness and fear, all bundled into one. "I didn't know how to say it before, but I do love you. So much."

He naively stared at their joined hands and then at her face, hoping she would suddenly open her eyes to him. He waited for an eternity, and then some more, but Felicity remained motionless save for the slow breathing pattern he could barely perceive on her.

"Felicity, please," he begged of her as he tightened his grip on her hand. "Do you hear me? I love you. I love you, Felicity Smoak."

Oh, the irony! He had had no trouble finding the gonads to stick an arrow in someone's eye, but when it came to his feelings toward his blonde he was a complete mess, a coward – a man who could not openly admit to the love of his life that he was head-over-heels for her when she was wide awake to hear him.

"FELICITY!" His voice was demanding now. "Wake up! You have to wake up!"

But she did not. She remained stoic and inanimate, much so as the objects around him.

He groaned loudly and let go of her hand. He clenched his hands and looked at the ceiling, trying his best to prevent the tears from coming out. He had lost his father. He had lost his best friend. He had lost his mother. His sister was nowhere to be found. He had no one else but her. And if he did not have her anymore, if she never woke up… he just could not imagine what would become of him… what his life would revolve around if it was not on her.

With a mad dash and a loud growl he began taking his anger out on everything around him. He kicked equipment, pounded walls, slammed objects against whatever stood in his way and not until all of his rage had evaporated and had been completely replaced by utter fear did he stop his destructive burst. The moment he stopped the assault on their property he felt guilt and regret fill him again. He had just destroyed in seconds what had taken Felicity months to build for him.

For _him_.

_Selfish _was definitely the word of the day.

He again hovered over Felicity, hands on the edge of the table, head hung. This just could not be happening, not to her – not to the only woman he had every truly loved. Laurel had been his first long-standing relationship and Sara had been his refuge when he thought he was too broken for anyone else. But Felicity was another story. Felicity was nothing like anyone else he had ever laid eyes on; she was the one person he had never known until now that had been missing from his life.

"I need you," he whispered. "Don't leave me. I need you, Felicity."

He waited a few more minutes to compose himself, but the more time that passed, the more worried he became. He could no longer keep her here. He had to take her to a hospital as there was only so much he could do for her on the premises. This was not a wound he could suture; he did not even have an x-ray machine. What if she had another concussion? What if she was bleeding into her brain? What if… what if…

"Oliver," her throaty voice snapped him away from the dark thoughts his brain was leading him. His eyes landed on her fluttering ones and for the first time since he had brought her in after the explosion he breathed normal enough for his lungs to fill with the air he had been depriving them of. He rushed to hold her face in his hands. He brushed some of her blood-caked hair off her eyes and after a teary blink of his blue orbs, he exhaled a painful-sounding echo of her name.

"Felicity," he sniffled, despite his effort to hide his tears. "Are you alright? How-how do you feel?"

Felicity blinked several times, giving herself time to adjust to the bright light above her and once she did so and realized she was at the Foundry, she grimaced before she spoke up. "I think… I think I lost my contacts."

Oliver could not hold back the chuckle that escaped him and he pressed his lips against her forehead. He then pulled back an inch or two and trailed her face with his eyes. He adjusted his head so that they were face to face, their noses practically touching, and he swallowed hard. "Do you remember what happened? Are you hurting anywhere?"

Her eyes looked away from his for an instant as she recalled the events that had led her to feeling as if she had battled an angry chipmunk and had lost, and once she came to the realization that what would have been the most romantic night of her life to date had been interrupted by a would-be terrorist, she could not help but pout.

"Would it help matters any if I said that this is not the worst date I've ever had?"

"A little," he said with a small smile, glad to hear that she was still the same ol' Felicity he had grown to love. "Would it help matters any if I said I was nervous as hell that I would disappoint you and you'd never want to go out with me again?"

Her eyes grew wide in shock and with his help she sat up. She held the left side of her face with her hand when it slightly throbbed and when she pulled it back and she saw blood on her fingertips she gasped.

"It's alright," he quickly said and increased his hold on her when she wobbled on the table. "You're alright. You're alright."

"Is-is it mine or is it…" she did not finish her question before she pulled him by the lapel of his jacket and patted him. She eyed every inch of him that was immediately visible to her and when she found no major wounds on him, she breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, Oliver!"

She surrounded his neck with her arms and he was not one to deny her the physical contact she demanded of him. He responded by embracing her as much as he could in their awkward position – she sitting up and he still standing, and he even felt brave enough to place a soft kiss on her cheek. Felicity closed her eyes and breathed in his unique scent, taking gulps of it until she felt her composure return to her.

"Are you OK?" She inquired.

"Yes. Does your head hurt?"

"Not really," she replied. "But my ears are ringing a little bit."

"It'll stop. And if it doesn't, let me know."

"Alright," she nodded. "OK."

She kept him in her arms for a while longer and when she felt the moment was becoming awkward, she finally pulled back. Oliver eyed her with curious eyes, his own words returning to him like a tidal wave, but before he could utter his confession of love to the now wide-awake blonde, her words interrupted his plans.

"Oliver, I… I know we should be looking into this and finding out if anyone else was injured, but… but before you put on the hood and I help you track whoever did this, I have to ask you one thing. I just… it just can't wait."

Her eyes moved from his own to his lips and back, and before she could ask the question that was burning a hole in her soul, Oliver leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. She froze momentarily as the magnitude of his action dawned on her and once the initial shock melted down, she eagerly returned the kiss with as much emotion as she was receiving. She was not sure if her head had begun spinning because of the injury or because of the sudden rush of adrenaline the action had caused, but either way she momentarily forgot how much worse this evening could have turned out to be for them.

When he finally pulled away he kept his forehead on hers and after licking his lips and swallowing down his nervousness, he whispered to her.

"I do," he began. "You know that I really I do."

It took Felicity a split second to understand what he had meant by his seemingly random words and when her eyes widened even more than before, he knew she had finally understood. The hope in her eyes encouraged him to say even more. "I thought I could ignore it, but I can't. I want you safe, but I can't lie to myself anymore. I can't lie to you anymore. I love you, Felicity. I meant every word."

Felicity opened and closed her mouth a few times, speechless as she had never been before, and she wondered if life was simply playing a crude joke on her by having all of this be a dream. She was glad to know with a discreet pinch on her arm, however, that Oliver had truly just said the word _love_ to her.

"I," she gulped. "I was just going to ask if you wanted to try again."

They both chuckled in unison and he nodded to her a couple of times, smiling as if this were the last time he could do so, and it was at this moment, this point in time after he had been honest with her, that Oliver Queen realized he would never be complete without Felicity Smoak.

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**A/N:** Like? Review! :D


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